The First Step
by Arthur T. Blackwood
Summary: While searching for the man who killed her mother, Katara struggles to come to terms with what happened on the ship.


The wind howled as the full moon set her gaze upon the ocean.

Atop Appa, Zuko sat just below a thin layer of clouds cast in a blanched glimmer. The vast expanse of the sea gave no hint of any land, nor any sign of Fire Navy ships. Around Zuko, the air floated between a balance of cold and frigid. The saddle which he sat upon offered no warmth, forcing him to rely upon his bending in order to stay comfortable. Every few minutes, he would cup his hands and breathe out the slightest bit of fire, accompanying the cool hiss of the wind with a warm flush. Besides these two noises, the night retained an uneasy silence.

Zuko's gaze flickered to Katara, whose back faced him. Her posture was rigid and grim as she gripped Appa's reins, and Zuko knew that she hadn't slept yet. He wondered if she was cold.

Zuko reached for his satchel and pulled out a nautical map, his golden eyes flitting between it and the sky to determine if they were heading in the right direction. The map was one of the few things he had managed to recover from his old search ship after it had exploded, and had come in handy while navigating the air balloon as he left the Fire Nation. Zuko's fingers brushed over the blackened spots the map had earned from the blast, and thought for a brief moment that they were akin to scars. The concept slightly discomfited Zuko, and he rolled up the map, returning it to his satchel. The banished prince hesitated before standing up and moving to get closer so that Katara could hear him.

"Hey," he said, "We're veering to the northeast. Steer a bit to the left."

She didn't acknowledge him, choosing to silently tug the reins to the left. Zuko could observe how tense her shoulders were, and lowered himself into a sitting position on his knees.

"You've been flying all night. Why don't you let me take over for a bit while you get some rest?" he tried to sound as benevolent as possible.

Again she ignored him, her posture revealing no emotion whatsoever. He decided to be persistent.

"Katara—"

"I'm _fine_, Zuko," Katara responded with a dangerous edge to her voice, her grip on the reins tightening.

Zuko was hesitant to proceed. He really didn't want her to explode on him, but at the same time he couldn't let her keep on like this. He straightened his back, ready for resistance.

"Look, I understand that you want to find Yon Rha and that this is your fight. But… a woman needs her rest. If you face him in this condition you might slip up and get hurt."

Katara shook her head, "I won't slip up. You heard what the commander said—Yon Rha is in retirement. He's old and weak. This will be easy."

Her voice had become very dark, and reminded Zuko of what he had sounded like when he was hunting the Avatar.

"You can't just underestimate an opponent like that," Zuko said, "Especially one who was the leader of the Southern Raiders not too long ago. Just get some sleep and I'll wake you when we get to the island."

"I'm not going to lose, Zuko," she was raising her voice now, and her posture was slipping, "Maybe you should stop underestimating me."

"I'm not underestimating you," his mind briefly remembered what she had done to the commander on the ship, "I just…"

"Just what, Zuko?!" she finally turned to face him, and was now yelling, "Are you afraid of me now? After what you saw me do to that guy? Because, believe me, I could've done much worse! I could've forced him to kill his friends, I could have killed him! I could've… I could've…"

Tears had begun to fill her eyes. Her words failed her as she choked on her own breath.

She quickly turned away from Zuko and drew her knees up to her chest, resting her forehead on them as her body shook with sobs.

Zuko remained very still. Ever since he had seen her take control the commander of the Southern Raiders with her bending, his mind had been alight with apprehension, curiosity, and fear. Although he didn't enjoy thinking about it, his mind had been able to put two and two together. She had bent his _blood_. The thought terrified him, and made him wonder—did all waterbenders have this ability? Was it that easy for Katara to end lives without a fight, as if they were the flames of candles, awaiting to be snuffed out? Was it that easy for Katara to end him?

Katara's sobbing had not ceased, and was the only sound between them that accompanied the cool flow of the summer wind.

Zuko watched her, not knowing what to do. After awhile he reached out his hand, warming it, and then placing it upon one of her heaving shoulders. He opened his mouth to say something—anything. But he couldn't find the words. He was too scared.

The two sat there for a long time, Zuko resting his hand upon her shoulder, and Katara slowly regaining her composure. Appa groaned, and Katara sniffled. Slowly and without thinking, Zuko shifted his hand down to her wrist and gently gripped it, tugging in the direction that led backwards into the saddle. Without saying a word, Katara pushed herself off of Appa's head and onto the saddle. She lowered herself onto her knees, the same as Zuko, and put her clenched fists on her lap. Her face was anguished and her gaze was locked on to her hands.

Tears still stained her face, yet she appeared to have calmed down.

This relieved Zuko, and he asked, "Are you alright?"

Katara nodded her head, misty eyes still downcast.

Silence passed for a bit.

"So, um…"

Her eyes finally met his and he could see she was a bit amused by his awkwardness. Her lips stood still. Zuko knew he would have to speak first.

"So you can bend blood," he tried to sound casual, "That seems pretty useful. Scary, too! Not in a bad way though. I, uh…"

Zuko trailed off and Katara rolled her eyes, "Stop it. I don't need this."

She searched his face without any malice and sighed, seemingly deciding upon something.

"About a month ago, Aang, Sokka, Toph and I were sneaking through the Fire Nation to reach the Capital. We came upon a village that seemed innocent enough, and it had an inn that could house us. The woman who ran the inn was named Hama, and after a night staying there we discovered that she was a waterbender who had been taken away from the Southern Water Tribe by the Fire Navy. She was amazing. She taught me that water can be found in a lot of places—places you would never expect to find it."

Katara's face darkened, "While we were staying at the village, we discovered that people had been going missing for quite some time. According to the villagers, people would experience losing control of their body before walking away into the forest. We did some digging to try and help, and eventually Toph started hearing people _screaming_ under the mountain next to the village. They said that the person who had captured and tortured them was an old woman, a witch.

"It was Hama. She had been using bloodbending to take control of the villagers and kill them. Aang and Sokka caught up to me when I was with her, but she took control of them before they could do anything. She almost made Sokka kill Aang, and—"

She stopped herself. She still felt ashamed.

"And the only way for you to stop her was to take control of her," Zuko surmised.

Katara nodded, "That night, after the villagers took Hama away, I swore that I would never bloodbend again."

Zuko stared at her, "So why did you—"

"Because I lost control, okay?" she scowled at her knees before peering away into the sky, her eyes coming to rest upon the solemn figure of the moon.

Katara felt something inside her tremble as she stared at the silver orb before her. Monstrously large, it seemed to her as though its white light glinted with something evil. The light curled away from the moon's edge, liquid tentacles trying to pull her below the ocean. She knew that it would always be above or below her, empowering her, itching her, watching her. It was a dirty, rotten pearl stuck inside of her eyes, filling them with pools of metal. Katara suddenly looked down at her feet, feeling as though she needed to throw up. She let her eyes flutter shut and began to feel the lack of sleep wearing away at her mind. She slowly breathed in and out, regaining her senses. The nausea in her abdomen slowly faded away.

"What I felt on that ship… the _rage…_ It was so real. So dangerous. When I saw that man, the only thought in my head was that he had killed my mother. My hands moved on their own."

Her eyes opened to meet his, "You know that feeling, don't you?"

It was more of a statement than a question, but he nodded in return.

"It would have been so easy," she croaked, sounding hopeless. She wanted to hide from the light.

Katara relaxed her knees and allowed her legs to lie flat along Appa's saddle. Her back soon followed and her head came last, allowing her to stare up at the stars as Appa zipped through the air. She felt the world fading away before suddenly sitting up.

"Appa needs—"

Zuko caught her shoulder, his gaze fierce.

"You need some rest. I can handle it."

He was somehow able to make a statement sound like a command.

"But Appa needs somebody to steer him!"

"And _I'll _do it," he retorted, "Lie down."

Katara's face looked angry, but slowly fell into an expression of complacency. It was as if she wanted to argue but couldn't find the strength to do it. Her back fell onto the saddle and she closed her eyes with a slightly furrowed brow.

"I hope you know what you're doing, then."

"Sleep," Zuko reiterated.

Her last thought before drifting into the abyss of dreams was that she couldn't see the moon.

Zuko examined her still form, wondering if she was actually asleep or not. The difference in attitude between her now and just minutes before was almost comical. A stone-cold posture had been replaced by the defenseless posture of somebody who was, well, out cold. In any case, he thought, it was good that she was getting sleep. Spirits knew she needed it.

Once again, he reached for his bag and pulled out the map to check their direction. Not good—they were going directly east now.

He stuck the rough piece of paper between his lips and reached deeper into the satchel, fishing out a thick woolen blanket. It wasn't much, but he hoped it would prove to be an olive branch. Careful not to set it aflame, he ran a heated palm three times down the blanket, knowing that it wouldn't cool too quickly. He draped the blanket over her, and saw that it only reached her shins. He didn't know she was that tall. Had she grown?

Zuko climbed atop Appa's head and pulled the map out of his mouth, checking it one more time for accuracy's sake. Gripping the reins, he pulled to the left and carefully watched the stars until they looked about right.

"Alright buddy," Zuko whispered, "Let's go."

He wasn't afraid of her. He wasn't. Bloodbending was a worrisome ability, one that made his skin crawl. But it was something that she didn't use in her right mind. Ever since he had started training Aang, Zuko had tried to figure Katara out. It was like attempting to complete a jigsaw puzzle, except it had over one thousand pieces. Now Zuko was close to figuring her out. Katara would never use it unless absolutely necessary, he decided. He hoped—no, he was sure of it. Zuko thumbed one of the reins and set his eyes on the horizon.

Faraway, lightning crackled in the air. The island awaited.

* * *

Gold and orange melted together above Zuko as he landed Appa behind the western dock.

The yellow Sun burned in the evening sky, bringing warm wind that played with the sparse ferns of Ember Island's sand dunes. Zuko quickly descended Appa's side and a deep grumble from the bison earned it a few pats on its head. The dirt that he stood upon was still a bit wet, and with a sniff he could tell that it had rained while they were gone. His golden eyes moved past the browning dirt to the dock, where he saw a bluish figure sitting on its end.

Up the path to his old family home, Zuko heard a worried Aang running down with an airbender's haste. The boy looked too concerned to approach Katara tactfully. Zuko sighed and moved to intercept him. As Aang reached the bottom of the path, he observed at Zuko as if he had just remembered that the prince had gone alongside Katara. He shortly made a beeline for Zuko and stopped right in front of him.

He almost yelled, "Zuko, what happened? Is she—"

"She's fine, Aang," Zuko calmly replied, trying to placate him, "She didn't kill him."

Aang's gray eyes held astonishment, pride and concern all in a split second. He shoved past Zuko and his feet soon reached the wood of the dock. Zuko felt the slightest twinge of irritation before trailing behind the boy.

"Katara! Are you okay?" Aang asked, stopping before her.

"I'm doing fine." her voice sounded almost frustrated, but it was too resigned to be so.

"Zuko told me what you did," Aang said, "Or what you didn't do, I guess. I'm proud of you."

She hung her head, possibly ashamed, "I wanted to do it. I wanted to take out all of my anger on him. But I couldn't. I don't know if it's because I'm too weak to do it, or if it's because I'm strong enough not to."

"You did the right thing," Aang assured her, "Forgiveness is the first step you have to take to begin healing."

Katara silently stared at the placid sea for a moment before getting up and facing Aang.

"But I didn't forgive him. I'll never forgive him," she told him, before sheepishly peering at Zuko, "But I am ready to forgive you."

She stepped forward and threw her arms around his neck. Zuko caught her in surprise, and in that moment he felt cool relief rush through him. He closed his eyes and let his chin fall onto her shoulder. For just a moment, he was brought back underneath Ba Sing Se, where emerald crystals cast light across underground caves and danced along the earthen floor. He could feel her locked hands slightly push into the back of his neck before she quickly pulled away from him and put a hand on his shoulder.

Her expression was gentle this time, looking at his face without rage or disgust. She same sheepishness appeared in her eyes, and for the first time in a day he forgot what she had done on that ship.

Katara took her hand away from him and walked towards Appa, where Zuko could see Sokka waiting to greet her too.

Zuko smiled, thinking back to the conversation he and Katara had on Appa's back. After they had that talk he was uncertain of what she was going to do. When she spared him though, he felt relief. Not because he wasn't dead, but because Katara had learned not to give into her anger like he did in years past.

"You were right about what Katara needed," he said to Aang, "Violence wasn't the answer."

"It never is," the child monk replied.

A sad thought crossed Zuko's mind.

"Then I have a question for you," he turned around and looked Aang directly in the eye, "What are you going to do when you face my father?"

This question greatly troubled Aang. He opened his mouth to answer, but then closed it and looked off to the side. He appeared afraid to answer.

"Just think about it," Zuko said before leaving the boy.

As he stepped off of the dock, he immediately regretted hitting Aang with such a dilemma. As much as he knew how necessary of a question it was, he still didn't want it to be. Zuko knew what needed to be done; the only way to end the war was his father's end. It was always a clear, logical plan that never seemed difficult to think about. But after seeing the mercy that Katara had shown towards her mother's killer, Zuko wasn't as certain. Whether it was an inkling of loyalty that still remained or a feeling of compassion—Zuko did not know. It just wasn't so simple anymore.

Lost inside of his thoughts, Zuko realized that he had not been paying attention to where he was walking. He found that he had trekked up to the entrance of his old family home. A kicked-down door lied before him, resurfacing brief recollections of an embarrassing outburst. Zuko shook his head and entered through the open doorway.

Familiar scents of burnt clay and palm tree wood hit his nose. Something sad welled up inside his chest. The molds and portraits were no longer present in the living room, existing only as ashes buried within the sand on a nearby beach. The only thing left was the skeleton of a warm, happy haven. Barren floors and empty walls only reminded him of what could have been. He pushed past unsettling memories and climbed the stairs, walking down to the very end of a long hallway.

It was his mother's room, her door hanging wide open. He unconsciously stepped inside, and found himself shocked.

The entire room was the same as it was ten years ago. The bed, wardrobe, dresser—everything. Even the small tea set that his uncle had given her was still there, tucked away on a windowsill. As he surveyed the rest of the room, Zuko faintly recalled that he and his sister had chosen to not open the door while scouring the house for family heirlooms to burn away. He was decidedly glad that it was left unscathed.

He remembered the balcony that overlooked the western beach. It was his mother's favorite reading spot.

Zuko approached the balcony entrance and stepped outside. He found Katara standing there, thoughtlessly playing with the ends of her hair as she watched the Sun dip further into the sea.

As if she heard him, Katara looked behind her and jumped in surprise when she saw him.

"Oh," Zuko breathed, "Uh, sorry. I'll leave you to your thoughts."

A puzzled look came across Katara's face, "No, it's okay."

Zuko stopped. A small smile crossed her lips and she turned away from him.

"We're fine now, remember?" she said.

He laughed, "I wasn't sure."

"The hug wasn't enough to tell you?"

Zuko didn't know how to respond and instead joined her by the railing. The sky was falling into a pink hue, with strands of gold glittering along the horizon. The prince heard the crashing of the waves against the shore, the wind shifting down the dunes. The nearby dock creaked as it welcomed noisy seagulls. He realized that this was the first time he was able to feel relaxed around Katara since Ba Sing Se.

"So why did you come up here?" she asked, still watching the sun set.

He thought for a moment before saying, "This was my mother's room."

His voice had come out more choked than he thought it would. He felt her eyes on him, and for some reason he didn't want to meet them. Something had shifted between them, something very delicate and real.

After a bit of silence, Katara replied, "I'm sorry."

They stood there for awhile, and the sun finally disappeared. Beach critters began to jitter as stars started to canvas a darkening sky. Katara caught a glimpse of the moon and looked down at her hands.

"Have you ever been afraid of the Sun?"

She knew that it sounded dumb. But if anybody would be able to understand, it would be him. Zuko, a firebender. Zuko, who knew of the horrors his bending could cause. He and her understood each other now more than ever, Katara thought. She hoped he would understand her with this too.

"Um, not really…?"

She grimaced, her wishes dashed against the rocks. She wanted to explain herself. She needed to tell somebody how she was feeling, for them to understand and to tell her that it was going to be alright. She tried to salvage the answer she sought for.

"What are you afraid of, then?"

Zuko raised an eyebrow, "Why do you want to know?"

"I'm curious. Just humor me."

He pondered her question for a bit.

"Losing the war, I guess."

Katara searched Zuko's face for any lies, anything that he was holding back. She gave up after awhile, realizing that was all. Maybe it was pointless to hope that somebody would understand what she was feeling, and perhaps she would never be able to explain herself. Zuko couldn't twist a person's limbs without touching them, nor could he pick bodies up like they were merely sacks filled with water. Her potential was disgusting and vile, she had decided, unnatural and unwanted. It made her a witch, just like Hama. And Zuko might never understand that.

In her loathing, Katara was brought back to forlorn memories of her childhood. She saw her mother on her knees, bravely commanding her to leave their home. She saw Yon Rha's beady brown eyes peer down at her, like a hawk preparing to feast. She saw those same eyes morph into the desperate, begging ones that she had stared into under a blanket of rain. She heard his cries for forgiveness while she had just stared at him, sensing all the water inside of his body pump with haste in and out of his heart. She heard the screams of her mother as she sent spikes flying his way.

"Katara?"

She saw Zuko peering at her, golden eyes concerned.

"Are you alright?" he asked, "You zoned out."

"I'm fine," she said, gripping the handrail of the balcony.

Zuko breathed in the fresh scent of the sea, peering up into the inky sky. He knew that she was upset. He wanted to say something to cheer her up.

"The sky's pretty tonight," he told her.

She didn't want to look up. But she did. Burning stars sheathed in navy were outshone by the big, hideous body that occupied the night. Katara's stomach curled in protest as her eyes traced the lines and holes that scarred the moon's surface. She stared at the sliver of shadow that cut its right edge into darkness, relishing the absence of power that she felt. Katara wondered if she would ever be free of it. She didn't know and she hated herself for it. Her hands came away from the railing.

"Yeah," she lied, "It is."


End file.
